Servants and Lords
by rexlover180
Summary: Arthur is but a humble servant to Lord Jones, though the aristocrat seems to think it's so much more than that. As much as it hurts his pride to sit and take it, one peppy, little Italian could help him through, one cooked meal at a time. He might help a little too much, but will that make things worse or better? EngIta and one-sided USUK.


Arthur was fairly annoyed. First that idiot "lord" of his commands all of his attention, and then he shoos him off to go do some of his laundry. Arthur scoffed to himself while he walked through the mansion with the fairly large basket. No one was allowed to touch Lord Jones' clothes but Arthur and so that left quite a bit to be done if Arthur was busy with other duties. Honestly, if Lord Jones could just go an hour without Arthur in his sights, his job would go a hell of a lot smoother and they wouldn't have to worry about anything not getting done. Naturally, if Arthur failed to get something done, Lord Jones had every right to "punish" him, which he had quite a fun time with around the time Arthur had first started coming here, giving him impossible tasks like bringing the sun closer when it was too cold. Arthur had been beyond furious, but what could he do? He was a servant and he had to obey his lord.

Suddenly, as Arthur passed by a door that he knew all too well, he heard the oddest sound. Soft singing to a tune that was in a language Arthur couldn't understand. The closer he listened, the more he noticed that it was most likely Italian. It was very pleasing to his ears and he wanted to stand there for as long as possible, but another sound made him create an entirely new plan. The very familiar whistling of a certain Frenchman that he worked with. If he saw Arthur even leaning close to the kitchen, there would be this huge fuss (because apparently Arthur "couldn't" cook) and then Lord Jones would get involved and that was something Arthur wanted to avoid, if at all possible.

So, Arthur thought of the most logical course of action and swiftly entered the kitchen, closing the door behind him softly so as not to alert Francis of his location. The singing was a little louder in here, but no louder than a little hum, most likely some childhood song by the sound of the nostalgia. Arthur carefully set the basket down beside the door and explored a little more into the kitchen. It was fairly neat, but the smell wafting through the room was fantastic and it was obvious someone was cooking. There was a single man in the room with him, fairly small in stature. Arthur frowned when he realized he'd never seen this man before and he wondered how long he'd been there for. He seemed to know the kitchen fairly well.

He had a little hop in his step as he sang quietly to himself, an odd curl off the side of his head bobbing with him. He let out a little laugh at a certain part of a song, expertly sprinkling some spices into the pot in front of him. Arthur carefully advanced to look at him a little closer, ensuring that he wasn't heard. Surely, even if this person was new, they would have received news of never letting Arthur into the kitchen and so that meant he couldn't really be seen. The man picked up the fairly large pot and Arthur was surprised with how much the man could lift, considering how small he seemed.

However, the man turned around more quickly than Arthur anticipated and saw him. The man let out a surprised squeak and his grip on the heavy pot slipped just slightly. Arthur swiftly ran over and helped him with the pot, admittedly burning his hands slightly.

"I am terribly sorry," Arthur immediately apologized. "I shouldn't have been so quiet when I entered."

"It's fine!" the man laughed. "It's all good, right?" Arthur looked at the man's face, finally and was slightly taken aback by the man's bright smile. "Wow, you have really pretty eyes!"

Arthur sputtered, reeling back and forgetting about the pot that the man could now handle on his own just fine. "What the hell? That is no way to properly introduce yourself!"

"Well, did you introduce yourself?" the man laughed, heavily placing the pot onto the counter where a fairly large bowl sat.

Arthur frowned, a little taken aback by the question. This man certainly was different, then again a lot of people in this mansion were far from normal… "I was rather busy attempting to stop you from spilling the contents of the pot." There. That was a fine excuse if Arthur had ever seen one.

"Well," the man hummed, wiping his hands off on his apron before turning around and holding out a hand to Arthur. "If you insist, my name is Feliciano Vargas."

Arthur took the hand, noting that the man's smile could power this mansion alone with how bright it was. He found it rather infectious, having to consciously make sure he didn't smile, though that wasn't working out so well for him. "Arthur Kirkland." He flinched as soon as he had said it. This man probably knew that Arthur wasn't allowed in the kitchen, and now that he knew his name, he would surely kick him out. And Arthur really didn't want to leave this man's side. He was just so…friendly and nice. He didn't want the bad impression of the "explosive cook" to put a damper on things.

"Oh, you mean the one I was told about?" Feliciano mused. Arthur sighed, preparing for the worst and having to leave. Lord Jones would probably find out and that was definitely not a good situation for him to be in. "You can't cook very well, right? Want me to show you a few things?"

Arthur blinked. That was definitely not something he was expecting. Before he knew it, Feliciano held onto his wrist and pulled him over to another pot that was under the fire of the stove.

"This is probably not a good idea," Arthur sighed. He didn't really believe the rumors about being a terrible cook, but he didn't want to chance ruining anything that smelled so great in this room.

"Nonsense!" Feliciano smiled, placing a wooden spoon into Arthur's hands. "Now, you're going to stir the pasta, okay?"

"Sounds easy enough," Arthur mumbled, carefully putting the spoon into the pot and stirring it around. Feliciano watched him with the eyes of a hawk.

"Not bad," Feliciano noted. "But you should scrape it on the bottom sometimes to make sure nothing's sticking. Do that for the sides, too. You can't let any of the pasta burn, okay?"

Arthur nodded dumbly as he continued with the cook's instructions. After the pasta was finished, Feliciano had him help with the garlic bread and putting it in the oven at the right temperature for the right amount of time. Nothing was burnt and no one came in complaining, so it was actually kind of…nice. Arthur couldn't stop the infectious smile coming onto his face and actually laughed on occasion with the small Italian man. Feliciano told him stories about his childhood or about his brother or about how he missed Italy, being in America now because their grandfather decided they needed to try a change in scenery. It had only been roughly an hour and a half, but Arthur found that he had learned quite a bit about the man. He'd even shared some of his own life, but when he noticed what the time was on the clock, his blood ran cold mid-sentence.

"Is something wrong?" Feliciano asked him. The food had been finished and was allowed just a little time to cool before it would be taken to the dining room to be eaten.

"I was supposed to return his laundry an hour ago," Arthur sighed, swiftly running up to the basket. Lord Jones wouldn't be mad at him, he was never mad at him. "Thank you for your company, Feliciano. I had a rather nice time."

"You're welcome back any time!" Feliciano beamed. "You're not a bad cook at all!"

"Thank you," Arthur sighed heavily as he swiftly left the room. A few other servants eyed him carefully, but there was no fire in the mansion so they didn't pay it too much mind. Arthur rushed to Lord Jones' room, hoping to God that the man would be too interested in his dinner to want to "punish" Arthur like he normally did for situations like this.

* * *

The next day, at roughly the same time as the day before, Arthur found himself pausing in front of the door to the kitchen. There was no calm humming or singing, as far as he could hear and that made him frown slightly. He was meant to be tending to the garden, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to Feliciano and that kitchen. So, Arthur took a deep breath and opened the door, entering into the room. The smell wasn't quite as good as it had been the day before and he noticed that the man in the kitchen this time was…different. He had his similarities to Feliciano, but there was definitely something different as well. There wasn't exactly a bright and welcoming aura coming off of him. The second he turned around to see Arthur, he set a vicious glare on him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the man demanded and his voice was definitely deeper than Feliciano's. This was definitely not the bubbly Italian Arthur had met the day before. "Wait a second, you're Arthur Kirkland, aren't you? Get the fuck out of my kitchen! Just you being around my food makes it shit! Get the hell out!"

"Right, my apologies," Arthur muttered under his breath before swiftly ducking out of the room before the man had a chance to throw anything at him. Arthur figured that was the brother Feliciano was talking about. He had his back faced to the hallway as he closed the door, which he swiftly found was a very, very bad idea.

"What were you doing in the kitchen?" the familiar voice asked and Arthur winced. He had hoped Lord Jones would have stayed in his room like he did the day before, but he apparently felt like being social that day.

"I was just-"

He was swiftly turned around and had to look up, into the eyes of Lord Jones. He was smaller in stature and definitely weaker and so had zero chance of getting away like he hoped he would be able to do. Lord Jones looked over him protectively, as if to make sure he wasn't burned like the last time this had happened.

"Is everything alright in there?" Lord Jones asked, looking him over with a delicate hand on Arthur's face. It was delicate _for now_.

"Yes," Arthur answered simply. And then Lord Jones started walking, dragging Arthur by the wrist with him. Arthur's stomach plummeted. "I should go and tend to the garden like you asked of me. I was simply looking for a snack in the kitchen and I wasn't able to find one, but I should go back to the garden and then tend to my other-"

Lord Jones had already made it to his room and had pulled Arthur into it, slamming Arthur into the door as it shut. Arthur flinched but tried not to show it.

"Other servants can do that," Lord Jones said simply, his mouth very close to Arthur's ear and puffing hot air onto it.

"Yes, of course," Arthur muttered. He knew he couldn't deny Lord Jones anything now that they were securely in his room. There was the very familiar bed off to one side and, next to the windows, was the also very familiar desk that Lord Jones currently had papers laid out onto. Arthur could already tell that Lord Jones was feeling sexually frustrated that day and he couldn't exactly get away, now could he?

"Very good," Lord Jones smiled devilishly before taking Arthur's mouth. Arthur definitely wasn't surprised by this, but he acted as though he was shocked by jumping just a little and making a small noise. Lord Jones gripped tightly onto Arthur's head, demanding entrance to Arthur's mouth that Arthur could only comply with. They only separated with air was necessary for Lord Jones, who had far larger lungs than Arthur evidently, leaving Arthur rather dizzy, but he was used to this. As much as his pride hated to be simply used like this, it was far better than the alternative; being unable to move for days to be Lord Jones' sex toy whenever he felt the need to pounce on him. That had been Arthur's first few months in that damned mansion and he had learned to take a small blow to his pride here and there in order to save the majority of it. Lord Jones had taken a liking to him, for whatever reason, and did actually pay him rather well, for a servant, to keep him around as much as possible.

Before long, Lord Jones was stumbling over to the bed, still entangled with Arthur. Just as Arthur's legs hit the bed, the door slammed open and Lord Jones froze. Arthur mentally thanked whatever God was up there and whatever God had come into his room. Lord Jones slowly removed himself from Arthur, pushing him to sit on the bed and he turned to the person that had entered the room. Arthur was genuinely shocked when he saw that it was Feliciano, who was wheeling in a cart filled with trays of food for Lord Jones.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lord Jones demanded angrily and Feliciano flinched slightly.

"You asked for your dinner to be brought in at this time every day, I'm sorry," Feliciano mumbled quickly. He glanced at Arthur and they shared apologetic smiles with each other that Arthur hoped Lord Jones didn't see.

"Well," Arthur stood up quickly, knowing this was his chance at escape. "I see you will be busy eating for the time being, I should return to work, as was asked of me a few hours ago." He rushed out of Lord Jones' grasp as quickly as he could, silently thanking Feliciano as he swiftly exited the room as fast as he could. He left so fast, he hadn't seen the rage in Lord Jones' eyes, hadn't seen Lord Jones raise his fist, hadn't heard the sounds of a beating.

* * *

Weeks passed. Lord Jones brought Arthur to his room every day to do what he wanted and they were never again interrupted by dinner or anything else. Arthur had managed to find Feliciano in the kitchen again and they were able to spend more time together. Even Feliciano's brother, Lovino, had grown used to him being there. As long as Arthur didn't ruin anything, he didn't seem to mind another helper. The more Arthur got to know Feliciano, the more he seemed to like him. They moved easily from acquaintances to friends and Arthur was silently wishing for just a little more, but they wouldn't get anywhere like that anytime soon. It was most likely the most fun he had had in his life and it was great to know that someone as sweet and kind as Feliciano actually wanted to be so close to him all the time. He always kept a close eye on Arthur when he was cooking, guiding his hands sometimes when something was really tricky. It was times like those that Arthur felt a nervous feeling pool in his stomach.

One day, though, neither Italian was in the kitchen. It was void of any of the happiness that Feliciano usually brought into it and it smelled entirely different, as if there was a completely different cook. When he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted by a servant he hadn't seen in quite some time.

"Francis?" Arthur asked and the Frenchman immediately turned around to face him before going to block Arthur's path to get closer to the food.

"Ah, Arthur," Francis smiled warmly. "The Lord had said you would come here. I'm not going to ask why you are going into the kitchen so often…"

"Where are-"

"Lord Jones said that once you came in, that you should go to his room," Francis continued to smile and Arthur shot him a glare. What the hell was this all about? "I would suggest you waste no time."

"Fine," Arthur sighed and turned back to face the door. He would ask his questions to Lord Jones, then.

"Good luck, Arthur," Francis said.

Arthur scoffed. There were few servants who didn't know what was going on with Lord Jones and Arthur and even fewer that gave Arthur any sympathy. They only hoped that Arthur would go along with it like a good little servant so they could all get off easier with the Lord. Arthur quickly made his way to Lord Jones' room, fully intending to ask him what had happened to both of the Italians he had grown to know so well. Lord Jones seemed to have other ideas entirely.

Immediately after entering the room, Arthur regretted getting there so quickly. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off with only candles lighting the room. Arthur took a deep breath and swiftly walked over to Lord Jones, who was lounging happily on his desk.

"What has happened to those two, Italian servants?" Arthur asked and Lord Jones seemed a little taken aback, but a smile still played on his face as he caressed Arthur's face carefully.

"You don't need to worry about them getting in the way anymore," Lord Jones hummed happily.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, daring to pull away slightly. Lord Jones frowned at that, but said nothing otherwise.

"They weren't being very useful to me," Lord Jones sighed, standing up to get closer to Arthur, who took a step back decidedly. Lord Jones narrowed his eyes at him. "So I sold them off."

"Sold them?" Arthur scoffed. "They are people, not simply objects!"

"They're with Lord Edelstein now," Lord Jones continued, as if not hearing Arthur. Biting his lip, Arthur vaguely remembered where Lord Edelstein lived. He'd been there on a few occasions with Lord Jones, against his own will, naturally.

"Why did you get rid of them?" Arthur asked. Lord Jones seemed intent on backing him into a corner but Arthur wouldn't allow that. Not this time. He had to get information some way. At this point, he didn't care how angry he got Lord Jones, he had to know about what had happened to Feliciano. There were times where he would have bruises, but he would simply laugh and say that he was clumsy, but Lovino revealed just through his scoffs and eye rolling that the truth was hiding. Perhaps Lord Jones had sensed that Arthur was getting close to someone else, something Lord Jones was evidently against, and retaliated against that.

Arthur turned just slightly, to the point that he wouldn't run into the wall like Lord Jones wanted him to.

"They were getting in the way of us," Lord Jones muttered, advancing a little quicker now, but Arthur was not going to have it. Not this time. He was going to…what was he going to do? "You should be happy. They were just distracting you from me and now we can spend all the time we want to together." So he was right in his assumption. He was immediately wracked with guilt upon realizing that Feliciano was suffering on his behalf, but hadn't even said any form of complaint. Not even Lovino was getting mad at him for such a thing.

"No," Arthur stated, planting his feet firmly on the ground and staring at Lord Jones. The aristocrat stopped in his tracks and glared at Arthur. It was more than enough to send shivers down his spine.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Lord Jones asked dangerously.

"No," Arthur said again, gathering all of his courage. "I am not happy. Not with you."

"What are you saying?" Lord Jones asked, a little more desperately this time. He advanced again on Arthur, but the servant slapped his hands away.

"I quit," Arthur said before he could stop himself, before his better judgment could tell him that he needed a job more than he needed to go and find Feliciano. But his mind was screaming at him, demanding that he go and find the Italian and tell him…Tell him what? That he was gaining feelings for him? Oh, God, this was a terrible plan, what did he think he was doing? He was panicking, but the thought of going after Feliciano centered his thoughts enough to make it through this.

"You can't just quit," Lord Jones tried. "We have a connection."

Arthur stepped away from him resolutely and moved to the door. "Any connection you think we have is your delusion," Arthur said, looking the man in the eyes. "If I have a connection with anyone, it would be Feliciano." Arthur cursed himself for that kind of a confession. The anger in Lord Jones' eyes was enough for Arthur to leave the room as quickly as he could. He started running. Down the hall, past the kitchen where he'd had such fond memories recently, and right to the front door. Damn his belongings, he could find new ones eventually. He heard Lord Jones calling after him and Arthur simply left the mansion as quickly as his feet could take him. He hadn't been to Lord Edelstein's manor on foot, but he was sure it couldn't be more than a two day's walk

Arthur found himself running even when it hurt to breathe and his feet felt like they were on fire. Just at the thought of seeing Feliciano again. He could think of something to say later, for now he could only think about the hug the chipper Italian would give him, or even a kiss on either cheek, like he'd done on a few occasions. Arthur didn't even notice his blush rise to his cheeks at the thought of the kiss missing it's desired target and landing elsewhere. He ran faster.

* * *

**Okay, so I don't normally ship this pairing, but AnyaZeAwesomeGlaceon won a little guessing game on another one of my fics and I promised to write her any one-shot she wanted. She asked for jealous/possessive America and EnglandxItaly, so that's what I went with. At first, I had no idea what I was going to do, then I read a few fanfictions (it really surprised me how little there are of this pairing…) and then I thought of this AU and really liked where it went. I personally think Arthur can actually cook, if he has good instruction while he does it. And I tried to make Alfred not too much OOC, but I do really like his possessive side, as creepy and intense as it can get sometimes…**

**Anyway, please review with your thoughts!**

**And I do not and never will own any form of Hetalia.**


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